What Would YOU Do For Love?

by Jenny Hansen

My favorite Facebook update this summer was from my brother. (We affectionately refer to him as The Bag Whore.) THIS was his update from his romantic getaway with his wife:

Okay, the massage…It wasn’t the sea salt scrub that bothered me. Nor was it the green baby poo they smeared all over me. Even the white sludge that followed wasn’t so bad. However the little blue Pull Up paper thong I had to wear the whole time kinda crossed the line.

Not again. Ever.

I waited impatiently for him to get home so I could get his story (and share it with all of you). As you can see, it took almost no prompting.

Me: So…tell me about this traumatic massage.

Him: *rude noise* Sis, have you ever seen a toddler’s Pull-up? Well, they put a version of one on me for this freaking massage. There were a$$ hairs and butt cheeks everywhere.

Me: Um…whoa. Usually they just strip you down and put a sheet over you.

Him: Nope. Think of the material for the blue scrub hats in the ER. Or a Pull-up without the Dora design. Now picture that on a 6’7″ man.

Me: I didn’t need that in my head.

Him: Yeah…me neither. Plus they wrap you in cellophane like a freaking burrito. This was NOT relaxing. See, I am a heat-giving machine. My wife will be all wrapped up in 8 blankets and I’ll barely be covered with a sheet.

Me: They actually wrapped you in cellophane? Like Saran Wrap?

Him: Well, first they rub salt all over you to “exfoliate.” It’s like having a brillo pad everywhere. That ISN’T fun for a guy. Then they slap on a seaweed puree with some snot mixed in and it’s freezing. THEN they wrap you in plastic. Now I know how my dry cleaning feels.

Me: *shaking with laughter*

Him: After 15 minutes, I told the gal: “You’re going to have to unwrap me because I’m not enjoying this. I’m burning up.” She unwrapped my nether regions so at least those could breathe.

Me: *speechless over ‘nether regions’*

Him: Then they rub white snot that smells like coconut all over you. And the whole time they rub and wash all that crap off, you’ve got the Pull-up on so your paper gets all wet. You end up with a wet papier-mache thong shellacked in your crevices.

Me:What kind of massage is this?!

Him: It’s called the ‘Aztec Massage.’ It was a couple’s massage. My wife wanted to do it. I paid $350 bucks for this torture.

Me: That’s kind of pricy. Did she like it?

Him: She FELL ASLEEP. I have no idea how she did that with these girls taking rolling pins with points and ridges, and shoving them into various tender parts of our bodies, but she did.

Me: Were you still in the Saran Wrap?

Him: They use the rolling pins OVER the burrito wrap thingie.

Me: That plastic wrap would be aces for Christmas baking. Nothing would ever go stale.

Him: Yeah. Plus, they rub these blue cloths everywhere — and I do mean everywhere — and they have these water noise thingies they turn over every 10 minutes or so. They put these wet “relaxation discs” on your eyes too so you can’t see anything.

So there I am, blind. With snot all over me. I had to mark the time by how often they turned over the water noise thing. Then the massage lady says to me, “You are very tense.” And I said, “I’m not comfortable!“

Me: Was there any part of it you liked?

Him: The only part I liked was the Hydrotherapy. You get to wash all the salt and slime out of your cracks and crevices.

Me: Explain to me why you spent $350 on this?

Him: Because my wife wanted to do it. I DID IT FOR LOVE. I sure didn’t do it for pleasure.

By day, Jenny provides training and social media marketing for an accounting firm. By night she writes humor, memoir, women’s fiction and short stories. After 18 years as a corporate software trainer, she’s delighted to sit down while she works.